Of Love and Locker Rooms
by Web Walker
Summary: Marcus is trying to figure out just what he and Hermione are to each other. Is kind of graphic in spots.


This is a spin-off the locker room scene in **atruwriter's** story **Mine**. It is an awesome story, very HOT, and you all should check that one out first.This can stand on its own, but to get why I had to write this one-off you really check out Amanda'a work. That said, thank you Amanda for allowing me to butcher your lovely idea. I tried, but I just don't think it can live up to your own wonderful story! 

Also, I do not own any of it…I just play in Potter-land, and bring Rowling's characters back home unscathed. 

**Of Love and Locker Rooms**

By: WebWalker

Marcus scowled as he slammed the locker door shut. He hated this insecurity. He was a Flint, and if there was one thing his almost sadistic father had drilled into him at an early age…Flints are not insecure! Flints are aggressive, Flints dominate, Flints are kings! Never are Flints insecure!

Still scowling after the last of his victorious team mates walked out the door into the dark night, he wondered, not for the first time, where the hell Hermione was. He should be out celebrating, not sitting here in the locker room waiting for some waif of a bird. Still, he couldn't help but worry. Usually she was here by now. He knew she had come to the game. She never missed one, and she had told him via owl last night that she was going to be there, so where the fuck was she? He fisted his hands and scowled again. Has she finally come to her senses regarding him? Taken the advice of Ginny and Molly Weasley and found a more acceptable male friend to hang out with?

Brow scrunched up in thought, sneer on his face, he growled and punched the locker closest to him. No! He would not think like that. Hermione would be along shortly, with her cinnamon hair flying wildly about her heart shaped face, and an apologetic smile on her rosebud lips. She would laugh sweetly, then clasp his hand in hers and drag him off to celebrate his team's victory, probably at the Three Broomsticks again. She probably just got held up talking to Potter or Weasley who had played on the opposing team today. Giving them her sympathy and just being her own sweet self. His lip curled at the thought of her being sweet to anyone else but himself. "Gods!" he swore raking a hand though his hair. Flint, you are becoming some love-sick fool pining after a flick of a bird that just wants to be friends with you.

If she could see him now, she would purse her lips and let an exasperated sigh issue out of those same sweet lips. Lips he knew he wanted to kiss, and be the only one to kiss for the rest of their lives. Lips he wanted doing obscene things to him that would most assuredly make her blush. Lips he wanted vowing unending love to him as he was slowly coming to realize he loved her. How he was going to convince her of that, he had no idea.

He knew he wasn't her kind, and usually she wasn't his kind, but she kind of snuck up on him when he wasn't aware. And now, well now, he didn't know what he would do with his life if she wasn't there to get him out of his dark funks, to have her there when he was hurt after a game, holding his hand or just rubbing his back, to have her there with her sweet chiding laughter when he was being an arse. To just have her there.

Marcus sighed sitting on the bench to take off his cleats. He had no idea what she thought about this, well for want of a better word, relationship. They had been hanging out since they met after one of her friend's Quiditch victories over his team. He had been surly, and glowering. All alone at the bar when she just walked up and took him completely by surprise. Surprise with her warmth and willingness to speak to, to commiserate with, or even try to befriend someone like him. If that was what this thing they had was. Scowling again at his thoughts he yanked off his socks and was working on the tie on his pants when his best mate Adrian Pucey walked through the door grinning.

"You coming mate?" Adrian grinned, and waited for his moody friend to answer. When no comment was made back, Adrian looked at his surly friend and sighed. "Marcus, she probably just got held up with Potter and Weasley. You know how they are." He never even thought to question Adrian how he knew he was waiting for her.

The guys had all been shocked the first time Hermione came bounding into the locker rooms, bushy hair flying, oblivious to everyone and everything except congratulating Marcus on his team's win. Since then, Hermione had become a fixture in the after game locker rooms, and the rest of the team had come to accept her presence. Adrian cocked a brow at his best mate. "Come on. Take a shower and get dressed. We'll go to the bar and wait for her there." When Marcus only scowled back at him, he sighed again and walked back out the door shaking his head as he went. "I'll be at the bar waiting my friend."

Marcus had his shirt undone and was half-way out of his pants when the locker room door opened again revealing an out of breath Hermione. "Marcus!" she exclaimed grinning as she turned from shutting the door. "Congratulations!" She started, and then stopped with the smile starting to fade from her mouth at the sight before her. Her eyes widened further in surprise when Marcus turned around. He had an abject look about him.

She laughed softly, "Marcus, you are not even showered or dressed." Still smiling, Hermione took a step towards him. "I just saw Pucey outside." She said conversationally. "All the rest of the team is waiting at the Fox Glove. How are we going to celebrate if you aren't even dressed?" She bustled around him, picking up his discarded clothing and putting them in the hamper by the door.

Marcus just watched her as he shrugged out of his shirt. "I thought you weren't coming." He said casually as if the thought of her not being there to celebrate his victory did not bother him. "I thought maybe you might want to be with Potter and Weasley instead." He growled out. At that thought, his chest tightened up and he found it hard to breathe. He heard Hermione sigh and watched her turn toward him.

"Marcus. I have been here for all of your games." She turned her doe eyes upon him and smiled that secretive smile that always made him so hot he had to take a cold shower just to cool down again. "Why would I suddenly want to be with Harry and Ron?" Sighing, she walked up to him and put her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry I was late. I could not get through the rush of people leaving the stadium." She murmured apologetically. "Now come on. Let's get you ready to celebrate." She smiled up at him and started to turn away when Marcus let his hands slide down to her hips to stop her from moving away.

"Hermione." He began roughly, chest tight at the thought of what he was going to do next. Hermione smiled up at him, her warm hand still on his bicep.

"Hermione." He began again. "Why are you here?" At her bewildered look, he tried again. "I mean why do you bother with me? Why are you here every game? Just…" he really didn't know how else to say what he wanted to know, "Just why are you here and not with Potter or Weasley?"

Marcus tightened his grip on her hips when Hermione dropped her hand from his arm, and tried to step back a pace. "What do you mean?" She whispered in a hurt voice. "You don't want me to come to see you after your games?" She blinked her eyes rapidly while looking up at him and Marcus could see the tears well up in her eyes.

"Aw Hell Hermione, don't cry!" He raked a hand through his hair. "Of course I like it when you come down here to see me." He looked down and breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't crying anymore, but she was looking up at him with an arrested expression on her face.

"Then I don't understand." She started, but he cut her off before she could finish.

"I know you don't understand, Hell, I don't even understand!" He growled out and raked his hand through his hair again. "Just what the hell are we anyways?" he questioned roughly while watching her eyes widen and her mouth fall into an O of surprise. "I mean, you come down here after games, and we go out to eat with each other, and go to Quiditch games together." He was rambling. He knew it, but he just couldn't get his big mouth to stop once it got going. He let go of Hermione and paced the length of the locker room, raking his big hands through his hair once again before looking up at her again.

"The guys all think we are seeing each other…dating. Are we?" He asked uncertainly. He knew he was acting needy and insecure, but he just had to know. Just what the Hell were they to each other. He watched as Hermione just stood beside the lockers, shocked at so much emotion coming from him, and he just knew that he had blown it. How could someone as beautiful and pure and sweet as her want someone like him? He turned his back to her, ready to hear the snick of the door as she left him there, and instead was surprised to feel her hand on his bare back.

"I rather think that is up to you, don't you?" She said softly. He turned around swiftly, knocking her hand from his back, and stared, surprised, down into her warm eyes. They just stood there staring at each other for a few moments. His confused eyes looking into her sincere and peaceful eyes, and then Marcus felt his surprise and confusion warp into something else.

He growled, low and animalistic, and he heard a soft, surprised squeak as he pushed her up against the wall. Her surprise only doubled as she felt his mouth slam down onto hers, bruising and almost breaking the delicate skin there. He flicked his tongue against her lips once, twice, and she opened her mouth for the ferocious, almost desperate kiss.

Moaning at her acceptance, Marcus pushed a leg between hers and dug his fingers into her hip bones, strengthening his hold on her and deepening the kiss even more. He smirked when he heard Hermione whimper and felt her clutching at his shoulders, digging her nails into his bare skin. Marcus made quick work out of ridding her of her robes. He reached down and undid the clasps, and pushed the material roughly down her arms, moving his hips away from her body just enough so that the silken material floated to the ground. He looked down at the milky white skin exposed to his gaze, and groaned again as he took in the lacey, black knickers and the matching bra she wore.

Hermione fell gently on top of Marcus a leg on either side of his body as he slid them down the wall and onto the floor. Rolling them over, Marcus ground his hardness into her heat, and heard her moan again. He looked down, and watched as she squirmed and rolled her head from side to side, and pushed her pelvis up towards him, and thought that he had never scene a more beautiful thing in his life.

He leaned more of weight down in her, and could feel his rough beard scrape over her tender skin as he bit and nibbled at her collar bone making her cry out even louder. He slowly moved up her neck licking and tasting her skin as he moved. He couldn't help it. Now that he had her permission, he had to have her…had to taste her. Have her heat slick and tight around his hardness. Have her moaning his name as he made her shudder and gasp while she came again and again.

He laid his face in the curve of her neck, not so much kissing her as just laying his lips on her skin. She shivered as he blew on her sensitive skin and then bit gently down as she cried out and tensed her fingers along his back scraping her nails along his skin. He was marking her, he realized. No one could look at that mark and not know that she wasn't taken. That she was his!

He found her lips and kissed her, gently at first, then harder. His tongue thrust between her lips, deeper at first, then backing off enough so that it was just a hot, deep kiss. He made a low, small sound in his throat when Hermione shifted and raised her body up to press her breasts tight and firm against his chest. He could feel her nipples tighten and pebble through the lacey material of her bra, and he reached down to palm a breast, pushing the material out of his way, he put his mouth to her breast and barely laid teeth. He gave a wolfish smile, as she put her palm to the side of his face, and then opened his mouth over her nipple while she writhed under him, moaning his name. Smirking, he flipped his tongue over the pebbled center and felt her tense up. He moved down her body nipping and biting as he made his way down to her mound. He ran his fingers around the elastic of her panties, and then ripped them off or her. He gave one quick flick of his tongue between her legs and he could feel her pulse speed up and saw her mouth open in a silent O.

His hands were around her thighs, fingers digging in just a little, his face just above the tight curling hair between her legs. He gripped her legs pulling them further apart and flicked his tongue back and forth over her bud until she writhed under his mouth, and then put his mouth over her and scraped his teeth over the most intimate part of her body. She raised her upper body off the floor and loudly whimpered, staring down at him with wide eyes and opened mouth. She was breathing hard and whimpering, and then he felt her body tense as the orgasm hit her. She fell back towards the floor, and he flicked his tongue one more time before moving up her quivering flesh, nipping and licking her skin as he did.

As he started pulling his pants down his legs, he looked down at Hermione lying there, and felt triumphant. Her skin was flushed, her hair splayed out around her, eyes glazed and she was panting….and all because of him! He raised a hand and cupped her cheek smiling down into her dazed eyes. Leaning down, he kissed her gently on the lips. Not too rough, just a gentle rub of lip against lip, and he saw her smile mistily up at him.

"Fuck me Marcus." She whispered, and his eyes went wide in shock. Smirking, he replied.

"I want you on your hands and knees."

He watched as she slowly rolled over to comply. He stroked her ass and rubbed against her opening while she lowered her upper body so that it was lifted towards him. He could hear her chanting, softly under her breath, begging him, and he smiled as he pushed just the tip of himself inside her. She moved back trying to move his body completely into her, and he stopped her, putting his hands on her hips. 'No." He growled low. "I will control when." She whimpered again and turned her head to look back at him. When he met her eyes, he felt seared by the heat in her gaze. It was the kind of heat that could consume you with its power.

He bent over her body, and bit her gently along her back as his body shoved inside her. She pushed herself tighter against him and made a breathless little sound. Wrapping an arm around her middle, he sheathed himself completely inside her, groaning at the feel of her tight, wet heat. He pulled out and slammed his hips forward again. Hearing her cry out at the contact, he began pumping his body into hers faster and harder, watching his long shaft move in and out of her body.

He grabbed the nape of her neck to hold her in place while he pounded himself into her, grinding his hardness into her tight heat. He pounded in and out, in and out with such force, fingers digging into her thighs; Hermione's keening cries echoing through the room, until he felt her body spasming around him. White hot heat coursed through his body and he cried out as he dumped his seed into her hot channel, hips still thrusting wildly until Hermione cried out one last time and collapsed onto her forearms. He collapsed on top of her, still buried inside her body. His heart beating so fast, he felt breathless.

"I am crushing you." He said gently, pulling out of her body and shakily rising to his feet.

"No." She groaned, still shivering from the after shocks of their loving. "Nothing could bother me right now." Smiling weakly up at him, she let him lift her in his arms and carry her to the shower room. He set her down in the stall and adjusted the heat to the shower, quickly bathing both himself and her.

In between the soft kisses and steamy touches they loved one more time, and he smiled at the peace and contentment he felt in Hermione's arms. Who would have thought that the dirty little mudblood that they all teased and mistreated in school could make him feel this way? The war might be over, his allegiances and political thoughts changed, and Hermione his own now, but he still could not help what came out of his mouth next.

"I still don't like Potter or Weasley."

There was a silence, and then a throaty chuckle from Hermione as she lifted her head from his chest, the water from the shower still raining down upon them both, and smirkingly replied. "That's okay….I still don't particularly care for Zabini or Malfoy."


End file.
